


Dusk

by TheStarsHaveAligned



Series: Fol [3]
Category: Code: Realize, Code: Realize ~Guardian of Rebirth~
Genre: F/M, Twisted love and some more angst, already getting used to the angst you say, loads of angst because his route, probably some attempts of murder who am i trying to fool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 16:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7113166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStarsHaveAligned/pseuds/TheStarsHaveAligned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they walk inside Saint Germain can't help but think, he had the easiest prey to hunt. But the hardest to kill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusk

**Author's Note:**

> based on chapter 9 from Saint Germain's route, twilight. from his pov.

Only fools trust blindly.

Ah, but being blind to this, it would be so merciful. Being blind to the future to come, and just await; being blind to the past, and never remember. Being blind to the present, and just build at your own pace. If only he could be blind, as blind as she was. As fool as she was right now, to trust him.

Looking back Saint Germain could not say he did _not_ a thing to earn her trust. In fact, even if he was aware of how strangely regarded he was by others, he could see how keenly she looked at him, how she always paid attention to his words and decisions. Probably she chose to trust him before he ever tried to gain her trust. And from there on things started unstoppable and progressively building between them. The irony of it all, because now he could only blame her for following him. For trusting him.

In this dark forest, only their footsteps and insects chirping broke the silence enveloping them. And yet, even knowing she was just behind him, he longed to turn around and steal a glance at her. To reassure himself she was there. Because Saint Germain still could not believe she was so trusting. Still could not believe she had decided to trust him, of all the people. She really needed to evaluate her life choices. A bit late now, though. His true smile fused with his ever present smile, masking the deprecating undertone of the former under the placid and serene visage he always wore.

_It was fine if she trusted him. That made things easier. It did, didn't it?_

Only her steps stopping broke the reverie he had sunk into, and he turned to see her slightly anxious face, teeth almost biting her lower lip.

He knew it. It was about time her self preservation instinct kicked in and made her think of what she was doing- and yet. He could not allow her to stop. He could not allow them to retreat now. He'd not have another opportunity like this, peacefully herding her to his hideout.

So Saint Germain decided to play it fool, and asked if she was tired, which she denied. Fine, he saw that coming. What he did not see coming was his outburst of frankness- and even now he still cannot understand why he did it- when he honestly asked her if there was something causing her concern. And to his utmost surprise, she denied that too. To his surprise, and short lived relief.

Cardia asked him about the hideout, which was an excellent question when blindly guided through a forest in the deep of the night. Maybe it was finally sinking in her the fact she was leaving everything and everyone behind to the uncertain before her, and with someone she might trust, but knew nothing about. Saint Germain had been careful not to allow a single personal detail about himself in all the time they had been together, but that had not stopped her from allowing him to lead the way to her escape, strange as it seemed now. That she might trust him more than she trusted herself. Or that maybe, she was using him as self reassurance to escape, knowing she might falter were she to run away alone. But all that was hypothetical as they stood there, in the middle of the forest discussing how eerie that calmness surrounding them was compared to the city. For a moment Saint Germain found it amusing how she had grown used so quickly to the London environment after being shut in for so long in that mansion in Wales. Then he thought maybe that was an after effect of how lonely she had been; one tends to grab onto something quick when it's better than what they had before. Therefore, now this forest was terribly foreign to her.

There should be some other things that made her anxious, such as the fact he was leading the way and, were he to disappear she'd be lost, but she had probably not even thought about it. Cardia was quick to trust, because she had nothing else in her life to hold onto. And she had chosen to trust Saint Germain, and he honestly hadn't the faintest idea why.

Enraptured for a moment by a butterfly, he followed her eyes as she let melancholy wash through her before determination won, and they kept walking.

But even as their steps resumed he still could feel it; her uneasiness, and the constant furtive glances she stole at his profile. It was not a cautious look, she didn't seem to suspect or distrust him. Nor was it awe, which would have been by far the strangest of the emotions to feel now. That pensive look, that made her brows almost knit at times, and that left her lips slightly open, as if there was a thought wanting to escape in the form of words, had Saint Germain slightly on edge. Cardia was... perceptive. Maybe not perceptive to deceit, but perceptive to emotions. Very quickly she had grown to understand others better than she understood herself, and that worried Saint Germain, who had relied in her naivety for the success of his mission.

So before her thoughts formed a coherent sentence, he decided to speak of the first thing that came to mind.

Hackneyed, but reliable. The weather topic never faltered.

Except it failed with her, and Saint Germain had to explain and expose and elaborate his thoughts for her, suddenly finding himself at the end of a careless flirting line. That Cardia did not get. Thanks gods she really was still naive enough. So he made up for that attempting at their current circumstances, and to his surprise, a soft yet sad smile appeared on her face before she agreed with his adlib. From there on, he deemed better remain quiet, or else he might keep making this journey difficult, for both.

 

The walking resumed, and for a moment Saint Germain felt he really could use that dream-like situation he had shared with Cardia to mask this circumstance; they could be on a furtive night walk, as if they could only meet on rendez-vous, as if they were-

Saint Germain thanked again his ever present smile for masking his current feelings at what he was about to let himself dream with. Things had gone too far, he had allowed them to grow further than reasonable. Further from caution. And now being professional about the whole business had tinged in mud. He had to calm down that part of him wanting Cardia to stay safe, in his arms. “Safe” and “in his arms” could not be in the same sentence, to begin with.

It wasn't helping that she had started to steal glances at him, again.

It wasn't helping that she felt the need to talk, again.

But she surprised him. His steps stopped and so did hers. And Saint Germain found again that the level of trust she had in him, of faith, was far superior than that she had on herself. In fact, her fear came from what _he_ thought of her. If only she knew better. And yet it was endearing, how even as she laid all her insecurities and doubts bare to him, she tried to fight them trusting them with him. That his opinion could weight enough to lift her or sink her. And for a moment he found that weakness was his, and his hand traveled to her shoulder in a reassuring and comforting sign.

Fright... fright was an emotion he hadn't felt in so long. Definitely “learning” about her hadn't frightened him. It had surprised him before this all started, for how _human_ she was, and it had surprised him even more as he got to know her, because to all standards, she was a human. It was impossible faking or impersonating a human like that. She felt, she empathized. She could be considered much more human... than he was. At least she had not forgotten how to feel. So to answer her, he smiled his kindest smile, the one closer he could find to honesty between all the faked ones, and told Cardia how much her actions, and behavior, and her whole being, were human to him. And that last remark, he laced it with pure honesty.

And her smile lighted the forest for a moment. A smile that, even slightly, reached her eyes.

 

From that moment onward Saint Germain couldn't keep his eyes from her, nor shut his mouth. He wanted her to smile more, from her heart, truthfully. He wanted her to enjoy this trip, her last trip, their last trip. So he told her about anything and everything he could remember, condensing it in the span of a human life; all his trips, all the things he'd seen, all he had learned. And she looked at him enraptured, unable to focus on anything else around. And in turn, he became enraptured by her eyes, beckoning him to keep telling her tales of far away lands.

 

After a while she stopped again, this time almost brusquely, her head shooting up to a clearing in the forest, her eyes reflecting the stars. And he did so too. They stood again, both looking at the starry sky barely a meter away one from another. Maybe if he could look at the stars reflecting on her eyes he'd not feel this crushing melancholy, and would be able to plainly admire the beauty of the night sky. But the more he spoke about how the sky made him feel, the more he felt he was opening a gap in his chest to let her see through. And suddenly he could not stop. His lips let through words that had nothing to do with his smirk, nothing to do with the whim he had excused himself with. And instead of finding it liberating, at the end of the sentence Saint Germain found he could not breathe. She could not know. He must not tell. About his sins. About himself.

He read in her face that he was not smiling anymore, his face probably showing a very different emotion from the usual composed one, and he quickly went back to how he had to be, to how he must, regaining a smile that said louder than his words that this small talk about himself was over. And yet, her encouraging, reassuring words made him feel he had said too much. And that he might regret it later, even though now that had served him to bond her more to him. To earn more trust. A trust increase he needn't, and a bond he definitely did not want.

 

After that he did not speak anymore, unsure what he might say, self conscious of his own feelings. Aware she knew yet another thing nobody else did. And unable to come to terms with how that made him feel.

And so they kept walking in silence, for hours, in circles around that leafy and dense forest he knew as the palm of his hand until they arrived finally to their destination, just as Saint Germain saw evident signs of tiredness in her.

 

And yet arriving there brought another source of confusing feelings as Cardia stood petrified by the entrance. Understandably so, as the mansion was an exact copy of the one he owned in London.

This was the definite moment, the last and most dangerous push; if he failed to convince her to enter, to stay, everything would have been for naught. Everything.

If he failed she'd escape his reach. She would run away, and live.

She would live.

If he failed...

Her name was out of his mouth before he realized. And his hand took hold of hers, bringing it to his face, letting the closest to his true emotions sweep, a mistake. A mistake he could dearly pay. A mistake he might dearly thank. A mistake... only fools allow themselves to make.

Again he would put the fault on her. Again he would weight that decision on her; of trusting him, for trusting him. It would be nothing but her fault, whatever she chose in that moment, as his eyes searched for her. And hers searched in his, his usual composure lost.

He risked everything until now, the built trust, the bond, her faith. He would risk them all. And accept anything she decided. He would gamble everything in this moment. Saint Germain had decided to gamble to right and wrong- her life- in her hands.

And he won.

And lost at the same time.

 

As they walk inside Saint Germain can't help but think, he had the easiest prey to hunt. But the hardest to kill.


End file.
